Cynthia Hamilton - Madeline Dawkins 01 - Spouse Trap Read Online Free Page A

at home. She wouldn’t know what to look for anyway.
    She pushed away from the desk and idly wandered around the room, picking up photos taken of them throughout the years. They’d had so many happy times together. As she studied their wedding photo, she found it impossible to believe their marriage was about to end in divorce. Their compatibility was something she’d taken great pride in. Naturally, they’d had their disagreements, but neither of them had ever been prone to rages or fits. Both valued their unified front too much to let domestic squabbles get in their way.
    That’s what made Steven’s behavior since Saturday night so puzzling. It was as if someone had thrown a switch and turned him into a distrustful, jealous husband. The fact that his personality change came just prior to her blackout made her even more apprehensive about the circumstances she now found herself in. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to believe the whole situation hadn’t been contrived in order to extricate her from his life. What she couldn’t fathom was why?
    She caught her reflection in the glass case that protected Steven’s prized first editions. It had been a hard day, emotionally speaking, and Madeline could see it in her posture. She immediately pulled herself to her full height, chin up, shoulders back. The light from the desk lamp threw unflattering shadows along her jawline, causing her to lift her head higher. This helped, but she couldn’t deny that even though she was still holding up well, she was now at the age where defying gravity was a full-time job.
    She had crossed the big psychological barrier—40—a few months ago. As vanity had become a necessary mechanism in her daily life, she had stepped up her efforts to rewind the effects of time. In reality, she was as fit as she’d ever been, but there were telltale signs that couldn’t be excised, all of which pointed to the fact she wasn’t pushing 29 any longer.
    Steven had ribbed her about turning forty, but only—she thought—because she was so sensitive about it. But now, as she faced the inexplicable end of her marriage, she had to wonder: did her defamation have anything to do with Steven wanting a younger wife?
    As Madeline pulled herself away from her puzzled reflection, she was left with another fact to consider: her apparent inability to conceive. A humorless laugh escaped as she realized that from Steven’s point of view, she had reached the point of diminishing returns.
    With an even heavier heart, Madeline returned to her private quarters in hopes of corralling all the suspicions and worries that had been rocketing through her brain the last eight hours. She grabbed a legal pad and pen—her favorite mode for capturing her thoughts—and settled in her corner chair.
    She drew a line down the center and began her two separate lists:
    Facts
    Awoke @ The Edgecliff
    My lingerie was ripped
    3 scratch marks
    No theft
    7 photos with the Italian (?)
    Hand-off to detective
    S wants a divorce
    Having listed everything she knew to be factual, she listed her suspicions:
    Unknowns
    Was I drugged?
    Did S pay detective for the photos?
    If so, why??
    Why does S suddenly want to get rid of me?
    As she read this last question, the obvious conclusion hit her like a punch in the face, making her head recoil from the jolt of it. She sat rigidly, stunned by her failure to see the obvious. Steven had the advantage of surprise on his side, she realized, as the treachery of his gambit finally hit home.
    There was only one scenario that wove all these facts and question marks together, and realizing it was such a shock to her system, she was instantly filled a white-hot hatred of the man she had married. Her hand jerking in anger, she summed up the answer to the riddle: Adultery + prenup = no divorce settlement.
    Madeline stared at the truth behind Steven’s wounded husband outrage, as she drew rings around the equation. The longer she looked at it, the